


Becoming a Man

by PeroxidePirate



Category: Tamora Pierce - Tortall
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:32:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Squire Alan" says that she is still too young to think about romance. Alan's friends -- including Rispah, the First Lady of the Corusian underworld -- disagree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming a Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Peculiar Pairings Ficathon at the [Goldenlake](http://fiefgoldenlake.proboards.com/) fan community.

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[alanna](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/alanna), [femslash](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/femslash), [rispah](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/rispah), [tamora pierce](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/tamora+pierce), [tortall](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/tortall)  
  
---|---  
  
_**Fic: Becoming a Man (Tamora Pierce, R, 1300 words)**_  
**Title: **Becoming a Man  
**Rating: **R  
**Fandom: **Tamora Pierce (Tortall)  
**Disclaimer:** These characters and their universe are not owned by me.  
**Characters:** Alanna/Rispah, Raoul, Gary, Stefan**  
Summary:** "Squire Alan" says that she is still too young to think about romance. Alan's friends -- including Rispah, the First Lady of the Corusian underworld -- disagree.

.

"Squire Alan" and her friends went to the Dancing Dove for many reasons: as a diversion from palace life, for the company of their cityfolk friends, for the stories told around the hearthfire, and for the ale served in Old Solom's taproom. The young knights went, too, for liaisons of the amorous variety.

One night in October, when the nights had begun to grow cold, Alanna found herself sharing a table with Raoul, Gary, Stefan, and several others. Raoul had some unexpected pocket money, a gift from some relation, and he was nothing if not generous: until the coin ran out, drinks, food, and other favors were on him. Raoul and Gary had already left the taproom and returned -- Raoul with a brunette so petite she looked like a child beside his bulk, and Gary with a blond who, in the dim light of the hearthfire, could pass for nearly half as pretty as Lady Cythera.

Alanna joined Stefan and his sweetheart, an apprentice baker, in laughing at the two burly knights. Gary's lady had been cajoled or paid, she wasn't sure which, into spending the whole evening with him. Raoul roared in annoyance when his temporary companion abandoned him for another. Then he was distracted by another tankard, and relaxed into an amiable smile.  

As evening became night, Rispah appeared beside their table. "How long until your purse is empty, lad?" she asked. She let Raoul pull her into his lap, but easily dodged his clumsy attempt to kiss her. "Cousin George is away, and he doesn't like me extending credit to folk such as you."

"D'ya know who my friends are?" Raoul asked, speech slurred a little.

"I know your mate, Johnny, promised not to bail you out again," she said, using the nickname Prince Jonathan adopted in the city.

"It's always about Jonathan," Raoul grumbled. Realizing her mistake, Rispah kissed him to shut him up. It wouldn't do the Dove any good if word got out that the Prince frequented the place.

"Now," Rispah said, standing up. "Gold. How much do ye have left?"

Raoul fumbled with his purse, until Alanna took pity on him and unfastened it from his belt. "Here you go." She handed the leather bag to the statuesque, redheaded Rispah. "He told me he means to spend it all."

Rispah gave a wolfish grin that reminded Alanna very much of her charming, thieving cousin. That grin always made Alanna's stomach turn over in place. "It's not a question of what he means, not when he's had this much to drink. Solom and I'll send him home with his skin intact, which is more 'n can be said for some barkeeps. If he wanted to go home with any gold left, he should'a stayed sober enough to keep track of it."

Alanna laughed while Rispah turned out the purse into her hand. She counted the coins, mostly silver, and nodded. "Enough for two rounds of ale for the lot of ye, and a swive for somebody," she announced.

"Me!" Gary exclaimed, but the blond on his lap smacked his hand and he subsided.

Alanna laughed along with the others. Then Raoul roused from his state of drunkenness long enough to announce, with haute solemnity, "Alan has to have the swive."

Alanna's stomach fell into her boots.

They were all laughing now, even Rispah, and Alanna felt a blush creep up her neck, across her face, and all the way back to her ears. "I'm too young for girls," she said. "I'm only--"

"You're never too young for girls," Gary said, insistently. "Isn't that right, Rispah?"

Alanna looked down at the table, wrapping both hands around her tankard.

"Even so," Rispah agreed. Cool fingers touched the back of Alanna's neck. "Your friends are generous, lad. So am I."

Hesitantly, Alanna looked up. Rispah watched her, eyes kind -- as always -- but teasing, too. Alanna's gaze was drawn to Rispah's ample bosom, half-exposed above the laces of her bodice, and she could not look away.

All around the table, her friends were still laughing. Alanna gripped her mug harder, anger building. They knew -- they all knew -- how she hated to be teased. She would have stormed off, but Rispah's presence left her no way to escape her bench.

"Hush, now," Rispah said to the table at large. "This is betwixt me and the lad." She took Alanna's hand, and when she spoke next it was to her alone. "Come along, my friend."

Alanna found herself standing, and as Rispah led her from the room, she began to protest. Then scraps of whispered gossip reached her ears. She heard phrases like, _"make a man of ye"_ and _"not so queer after all."_ Her cheeks burned, but she jutted out her chin. She would have to see this through.

.

They reached an upstairs room, clean but simply furnished. The wooden bedstead was overtly sturdy, the mattress covered with one sheet. The room's only other furnishing was a small table, with things for washing on top and a stack of clean linen on its lower shelf. In another corner was a pile of soiled sheets.

Alanna gulped.

She had thought, during the eternity it took to walk up the stairs and down the hall, that she would let Rispah kiss her once or twice, and then make some excuse to leave. But Rispah was prepared for the nervous, over-excited young man Squire Alan appeared to be -- and if there's one thing Rispah knew well, it was men. It seemed that no sooner had she and Alanna begun to kiss than Alanna's breeches were unlaced and Rispah's hand was reaching between her legs and finding only fabric.

Rispah froze, her mouth still on Alanna's. Then her hand began to move again, past layers of cloth, until a single caress confirmed her startling discovery.

"Well!" she said, releasing the girl with a laugh. "That explains more than it doesn't."

They had been seated side by side on the bed. Now Alanna stood, turning her back while she re-laced her clothing. She realized she wanted to keep kissing. She wanted that caress to continue. But Rispah had been kissing a boy who didn't exist. Of course she wouldn't want to kiss the girl who was now beside her.

"I knew my cousin had a secret where you were concerned," Rispah continued. "Only I thought it was his secret he was keeping, and it turns out, it's yours."

"What!" Alanna turned back, startled. "You thought George was--"

"Well, now, it's a sight more likely than a girl squire!" Rispah touched Alanna's arm. "How did it come about, anyway?"

"Look, I'm sorry," Alanna said quickly. "It's a long story, and I'd rather not go into it just now. Ask George sometime, if you really want to know." She shook off the older woman's hand. "I'll show myself out."

"Oh, no you won't," Rispah said, standing up. She gripped Alanna by the shoulder with one strong hand. "I have a reputation to maintain, lad -- I mean, lass. Alan--"

"My name's--"

"Don't tell me!" Rispah interrupted. "The less I know, the better. Turn around."

Alanna complied. Now Rispah's eyes were kind but firm.

"Alan wouldn't go back into that taproom until he was sweaty and embarrassed and half his clothes were on backward or inside-out -- and he'd be happier and more relaxed than he'd ever been in his life. You have to go back in the same state." Rispah's gaze was challenging, now. "Unless you want your friends to start asking us both some very awkward questions. I'll keep your secret if I can -- but not at the expense of my own reputation."

"Oh, Goddess," Alanna whispered. Her knees were weak, and she was tingling, but it wasn't at all unpleasant.

Rispah's eyes twinkled. "You can call me 'Goddess' if you like."

She held out her hand, and after a moment, Alanna reached for her. Their fingers intertwined, and when Rispah leaned down, Alanna did not hesitate to kiss her. If there's a second thing Rispah knew well, Alanna soon discovered, it was women.

.

They returned to the taproom an hour later, Alanna very much in the state Rispah had predicted. When their friends saw her and laughed, Alanna blushed even brighter than Squire Alan would have.

But Raoul clapped her on the back, Gary and Stefan bought her tankards of ale, and they all congratulated her on being a man. She accepted the attention gladly, for once. And when Rispah's gaze met hers, that night and for a long time after, her eyes twinkled.


End file.
